life is magical for people who tie themselves into ups and downs. when an ounce of their effort is donated to the world, something golden returns to them—whether it’s temporary or not. it’s a repetitive cycle, hence why fulfillment and motivation exists.

for han yura, god never seemed to pay her back.

as unbearable as it sounds, yura has lived—what, a whole twenty three years, or was it twenty four?

could be less, could be more.

she’s in a reality where her birthday isn’t a day to celebrate with strawberry chiffon cakes and pink confetti, but a reminder for her to ponder why she’s alive.

like how the joker card reverses a winning game into immediate destruction, yura’s family all turned against her—and it only took them a second to decide, on the day of yura’s white christmas.

and as typical as it sounds, yura shouldn’t have offered her trust to her first boyfriend.

falling—the word itself is an open deception, yet people fall for it all the time.

she thought park chanyeol was perfect. the world was on his fingertips. his father runs a prestigious university and a five-star hotel superstars reside in, and his mother is a neurosurgeon with one of the highest success rates worldwide. despite all the heavy, grand specs he has on line with his name, he possessed a friendly manner—one that easily fooled every passing stranger. he wore his handsome smile like he knew it was his most powerful weapon and his words sounded like memorable dialogues from a male protagonist in a top-rated romance film.

chanyeol was too good to be real—yura knew that, yet she let herself fall into a delusion.

someone should’ve told her kindness is easiest to fake, and male protagonists are prime suspects to be villains too.

past.

it’s the day of christmas—a day that was excruciatingly underwhelming until this year came like a single snowflake falling on a winter evening. 

no, yura doesn’t have any plans of seeing reds and greens ignite the starry night sky, nor does she have any invitations to attend a christmas party with presents going around like hot potato. rather, she thought none can compare to her watered down intention of introducing her boyfriend to her family tonight, because nothing can be as nerve-wracking and thrilling.

“how do i look, yura?” chanyeol pumps up his shoulders to playfully flaunt his new tailored suit. “do i look good enough to be your husband?” he breathes out nervously as he stares at himself in the reflection.

yura balances on one foot to sneak a peek of chanyeol’s thousand dollar attire in the full body mirror he’s been absorbed in for the past ten minutes. “without it as well.” she answers nonchalantly before casually turning away.

“without it?”

“not like that—” yura stops mid-way to correct chanyeol.

“i know,” chanyeol tugs her wrist to tug her in for a surprise and a tight embrace from behind. shutting his eyes at the comforting sensation of her long hair brushing his jaw, he widens his smile in amusement. “and i’m still nervous.”

“there’s no need to be.” yura peers down at chanyeol’s bigger hands glued to her stomach before naturally holding them with hands that are much smaller.

“it’s your family.”

“and as their daughter, i’m afraid they might love you more than me.” yura quips to alleviate some burden off of chanyeol’s shoulders.

“how could they?” chanyeol whispers, “i’m not as beautiful as you.”

“they’d use all their time to disagree.” yura snickers.

“oh, no.” chanyeol replies deeply. “i’ll be debating with my girlfriend’s family at the first meeting.”

yura’s apples twitch upward as she resists the urge to beat his smile by size. “i won’t stop you.”

chanyeol exhales before tearing himself away from her. he holds her bare shoulders, pressing his thumbs against her skin to keep her rare smile under watch. “shall we go then?” he offers her a hand to grasp. during winter, especially, he’d insist on holding her hand.

yura nods once and takes his hand. “let’s go.”

ahead of the couple are the final doors leading towards a room chanyeol wholeheartedly suggested on reserving. both yura and chanyeol leave the blinding spotlight below the chandelier in the foyer, and chanyeol takes the lead in familiarity. with his chest heaved up and a grin blooming on his pink lips approximately two weeks ago, he said it had to be this italian restaurant tonight. he remembered her family loves pasta.

past the doors is a room as spacious as the foyer. it looks like it could fit hundreds of tables inside, but there’s actually one huge dining table placed as the center of attention. beneath the furniture is draped in colors of royalty—purple—or more so, a purple rug that plays as a carpet. the gothic rug covers the entire ground, resembling the coziness of a luxurious home. all of it seems intentional, though it’s clear that it’s a risky move considering how most of the italian cuisine includes sticky sauces in their dish. a single mistake from an individual could stain the fleece permanently, but yura assumes that’s the humble gamble given by the top tier restaurant. after all, the room holds a hefty price—one that only families like chanyeol’s family can afford.

“yura,” her step-mother—yoo hyeran, exhales softly. she feigns utmost excitement at her arrival by lifting herself off her seat. however, in reality, she wouldn’t acknowledge her if she yelled. by the looks of her awkward hairdo done up high and her heels being much taller than yura’s and her step-sister’s combined, yura could tell in a second—she’s the person who’s most eager to impress park chanyeol, even if that meant to become an asset to his family.

“you must be chanyeol.” yura’s father clears his throat, standing up after his beloved wife. “thank you for offering us such a pleasant space. we were happy to wait.”

“it’s my greatest pleasure, mr. han.” chanyeol bows at a ninety degree angle. “i wouldn’t dare to call this a beginning. there’s many more places my family would love to recommend.”

“oh my, how nice!” yura’s step-mother laughs behind her hand.

“hello there,” yura’s step-sister—jihyun, beams. her teeth are shining white; the dental technicians must’ve exaggerated their skills to get them that close to perfection. “i’m han jihyun.”

“please come take a seat, chanyeol.” hyeran suggests sweetly. “yura, sweetheart, you too.”

how ing pretentious—all of them.

yura forces all her features to make a smile as she gives chanyeol’s clammy hands a squeeze. at that, chanyeol guides her to the seats left empty for them on the side. yura swallows down pure heat when she sits beside hyeran while chanyeol visibly tenses up next to jihyun.

“the food is our treat, chanyeol.” yura’s father says. “it won’t make up for any of the good deeds you’ve done for us, but it’s the least we can do for you today.”

“the house’s entire menu accompanies this room today, mr. han.” chanyeol smiles, “however, will there be a next time for us?”

“making time for you isn’t even a task, dear chanyeol.” hyeran muses.

the mood, the pace, the atmosphere—the world is in chanyeol’s hands. everything is driven into perfection thanks to his princely charms and sugary tongue. yura and chanyeol both wanted this—a meeting totally revolving around chanyeol—nothing else. 

tonight, as of now, is ideal.

but… why is she still hating it so much?

when yura thinks, she’s reminded.

there’s a lot of reasons; reasons why she found this meeting nerve-wracking and thrilling to begin with; reasons that come like thunder, electrocuting yura’s mind into black. and within darkness, there’s illness.

“please, mrs. han.” chanyeol elicits a chuckle into the side of his fist, eyes crinkling like crescent moons to coax every gaze in the room as if he’s the only sparkle in the night sky. “as long as you don’t get sick of me.”

“there’s no way—” hyeran flicks her wrist, waving dismissively at his words.

“yura, say something.” jihyun randomly asserts. “why don’t you tell us about how you guys met?”

the first reason—han jihyun.

“my sister?” jihyun scoffed out loud. “since when was that psychotic my sister?” she rolled her eyes and began fanning herself. “she’s just a toy bringing me whatever’s clean in this dirty ing world. her boyfriend—kim chanyeol? jung chanyeol? , i forgot, but he’s the first thing she’ll be serving me.”

“if those two met at a ing club, they’re bound to break up anyway.” jihyun bursted into laughter. “my ing god, instead of telling his rich parents he met his girlfriend at a club, he’d probably want to date a different girl to make life easier and less embarrassing.”

“the story with her and i? you mean, like how she slid into our family or are you talking about what exactly made me gag at her?” jihyun snorted. “you’d laugh too loud if you listen.” she dared to reveal, “her dad died in a car with my mom. mom was sad for a bit, but she got over him after finding someone else to fill the void. we complained for hours after knowing we had to take in han yura since he literally wrote about her in his will. he was actually diagnosed with cancer before the accident anyway, so we couldn’t stop anything. her dad just threw her with us thinking he could trust my mom after death.”

“hm,” yura plants her elbow against the handkerchief rolled out against the table for convenience and slips her palm under her chin. “what’s so interesting about it?”

jihyun’s eyes dilate in shock. “what?” she spits out. 

“i thought i told you a few times, hyun.” 

“you did?” jihyun barks out a dry laugh. “i don’t remember—”

“mom,” smirking, yura turns to hyeran. “is jihyun this forgetful around you too?”

hyeran bites down her lower lip to the point it can burst any minute. her brows collapse in stress, and her eyes narrow till they’re as keen-edged as a knife. on the other hand, yura’s father and chanyeol both look at yura in both confusion and interest. they’re mistaking her answer as banter between two loving sisters. 

“there’s times when people forget.” chanyeol grins obliviously. “either way, yura and i met under funny circumstances—that’s for sure.”

jihyun hums and giggles as loud as she could to make it visible that chanyeol’s words of acknowledgement meant a lot more than mere courtesy. “please, what matters is that you’re maintaining a beautiful relationship.”

“i’m glad you think so.” chanyeol almost whispers under his breath.

“my, yura, aren’t you lucky to have this amazing man to yourself?” jihyun tucks a measly strand behind her ear. “don’t you agree, mother?” she glances at hyeran as if she’s sending a signal.

“of course,” hyeran replies accordingly. “chanyeol is handsome, tall, and—” she pauses to wonder openly. “that reminds me!” she inhales, “how’s your father and mother doing these days, chanyeol?”

the second reason—yoo hyeran.

“honey!” hyeran exclaimed. “do you understand how important it is for you to attend? your business can succeed more than you think with park chanyeol’s help.”

“we need to take our chances!” hyeran desperately begged, “park chanyeol was the person to initiate the dinner, darling. he is interested in making us his family.” she tried to talk calmly and reasonably to coax her husband, “yura—that girl, no matter how much i asked, she wouldn’t even try to help her family out.”

“they’re keeping themselves occupied.” chanyeol bobs his head. “how about your business? mr. han is skyrocketing in fame lately because of his intelligence, i was afraid he wouldn’t be present today.”

“nonsense,” yura’s father says. “as my wife said, time is always available when it comes down to you.”

yura breaks into a dry scoff before smiling it off.

the third reason—her new father.

the mysterious man that replaced her father. he’s like a clean slate; a blank canvas. he displays no emotion and affection, yura always wondered why it was him. even towards hyeran and jihyun, he’s a carved stone. it’s because he’s capable and intelligent, hyeran naturally gravitated to someone like him—the complete opposite of yura’s father. this man just feels like another shield hyeran put up for herself and jihyun.

though he shows no fixed feelings, he’s got a cunning mind. he’s devoted to his business and is passionate when it comes to numbers. he’s the definition of an individual, and yura wouldn’t be shocked if he married hyeran for her assets. he’s much more bearable than hyeran and jihyun, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a self-centered, hungry bastard at the end of the day. 

“i heard—” yura stuttered and froze at her new father working in his office. every second, she heard the clock ticking, anxiously reminding her how loud the silence truly is. 

“if this isn’t about my work, don’t waste your time.” he merely said. “you’re old enough to take care of yourself.”

with a concerned guise, chanyeol tilts his head and puts a hand on top of yura’s clothed thigh under the table. “what’s wrong?” he mouths quietly.

“i’ll be back,” yura dismisses herself huskily. “i need to use the restroom.” her chair grinds across the carpet as she pushes herself away. the edges of her dress; mainly the bottom thanks to its length, drags along with her as she takes a step further away from the table.

“take your time, sweetheart!” hyeran shouts out in the distance.

she ing wishes.

all these reopened wounds for her boyfriend—yura thought her patience would be able to handle it. her love for chanyeol isn’t a joke after all, and it’s definitely none of the shallow loving she had to feign for decades towards her new family.

however, she’s still human—one that’s not close to perfection; one that’s far from who she wanted to be for the night.

she loathes it—every second spent with yoo hyeran and han jihyun—she feels as though there’s spiders crawling all over her body. the unbearable feeling of disgust and fear; the instinctive loss of words and sanity in case the creatures would shoot venom onto her.

yura feels her breaths; each one quivering and boiling in rage and fear. they tremble as they bounce off her chest, and the urge to grasp and smack her heart back to its original rhythm is blooming uncontrollably within. she’s suffocating—like someone’s shoving a pillow against .

she’s reminded of those reasons again.

han jihyun.

yoo hyeran.

her father.

and beside them, chanyeol appears like mist.

why?

because he blends in?

because he’s easily loved?

why does any of that matter?

shouldn’t she be happy—no, isn’t this what she wanted? for him to make the best impression?

with her head dropped and hair shadowing the field of her vision, yura scoffs empti